The Ax That Lay In a Bed of Roses
by SamanthaJane13
Summary: Lucinda arrived at Miss Robichaux's Academy after discovering that she was a Witch. However, once she arrived, she realizes that she is not alone in her room. Who is this voice she hears? Will she be able to survive the events that will come to pass in the future? AxemanXOC. Rated M because it is American Horror Story.


My first Coven Fanfic for AHS. Please feel free to read the other AHS stories I have. I apologize for being really slow on updates. Work and School has kept me away from writing as often as I would like to.

Reviews are appreciate!

Flames are not.

DISCLAIMER: I only own any obvious OC's. Everything else belongs to the creator of American Horror Story

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Lucinda was sixteen when it first happened. An odd eccentric woman with bright orange hair came to her house and told her and her mother that she was a Witch. Who would have thought?

For you see, Lucinda, could see the dead. Well, not really "see" per say but she could sense that they were there. She could hear and talk to them. Not a big deal in the world of "Witches" apparently. Yet, it was enough to thrust her into the classification of Witch. After that she was gathered up by the Orange haired woman and her suited monkeys before she was boarded onto a train. The train was bound to New Orleans, Louisiana. More specifically to a school called Miss Robichaux's Academy. A school for witches...well it certainly wasn't Harry Potter. Rather than a large ominous castle surrounded by a large lake and the frightening forest.

The school was...well...normal. It was a colonial style house surrounded by a tall spiked rod iron gate. Decorated in black and white color scheme with gardens and trees. How very Southern it was. The orange haired woman left her at the gate when it opened. Lucinda walked inside as the suited monkeys gathered her luggage.

Once she had walked into the foyer Lucinda was immediately overcome by a strange sensation. The air inside was still and thick. She felt a strange presence looming over her as she stood there. It made her feel strange almost as if she was being watched. "Hello," a voice snapped her out of her thoughts. Turning around she saw a woman standing on the stairs. She was dressed very business like. With her bobbed blonde hair and her soft smile.

"I'm Cordelia Foxx, head mistress. You must be Lucinda." The woman said as she walked closer and shook her hand. "Welcome, follow me please" She said before turning and Lucinda followed her upstairs. "Miss Robichaux's Academy For Exceptional Young Ladies was established as a premiere girls' finishing school in 1790."

A rehearsed speech about the history of her new home. _Oh wonderful..._ she couldn't help but think as they walked upstairs where Lucinda saw a creepy butler like man. Well, creepy was an understatement. Lurch was prince charming compared to this man.

"During the Civil War, it was converted into a military hospital. Afterwards, it came under new management. Our management." Portraits of many women over the years filled the walls. From vintage to new. "In 1868, Marianne Wharton, a prominent East Coast society matron, early suffragette, author of several popular children's books and, as it happened, the reigning Supreme of that time purchased this facility, retaining the name as a cover, establishing a safe haven where young witches could gather to learn. In its heyday, the Academy was home to as many as sixty girls...over the years, those numbers dwindled." She heard the sadness in Cordelia's words.

"Why?" She asked curiously. If she was a witch she had the right to know the answer. It also didn't help that she was curious of everything now. Especially the people who she shared a common thread with.

"We're a dying breed, Lucinda. Many of the families who knew they carried the bloodline made a choice not to reproduce. They feared having children" Lucinda remained quiet as Cordelia's speech came to an end.

"What is a supreme?" She finally asked as they arrived at her bedroom. A large room, white walls, with a single bed.

"An average witch is born with a few natural gifts. Other skills, spells, she can learn. But in each generation there is one woman who embodies countless gifts. Some say all of them. She is the Supreme"

"So she is like the...main person thing?" _Wow..._ Lucinda thought, what a great use of words. Her words did make Cordelia smile.

"Yes. The main person thing." Cordelia laughed softly. "This will be your room. It was my mothers but she hasn't been back in sometime and you were coming. So, I decided you should have it."

"I really don't need any special treatment-" she tried to insist. She couldn't just take someone's

room. It made her feel as if she was literally invading them.

"It is alright. Fiona can deal with it. She rarely comes to visit. Please take your time to get comfortable. Dinner is promptly at 7." She gave that smile again before she started towards the door.

Lucinda nodded, "How many other girls are there here?" The question caused Cordelia to stop immediately. Her smile had turned sad again.

"Right now," she said softly "Just you and another girl. Nan. She is a kind girl. You two will get along. I will leave you alone to get settled." And with that, Lucinda, was alone. One the door had latched closed a sense of emptiness filled her belly.

Slowly she sat down on her bed. The frame creaking in the silence of the room. Her hands gripped the edge of the mattress as it all came crashing down. She was alone...completely and utterly alone. She had been taken from her family, away from her life...and placed here. A stark white room...it might as well be a padded room in an asylum. That is what it reminded her of. A stark white sterile hospital room. A place where they send away those who were different. Her own mother didn't even try to stop them from taking her.

Why would she? She was a woman of high society who had given birth to a child that was different. No, worse than different. She had given birth to a Witch. Lucinda hadn't even been given a farewell glance as they dragged her out of the door. Then again, she didn't cry out for her mother either. Would she had looked up when she heard her child's voice calling out to her? Begging her to not let them take her away?

No, no...she wouldn't have. She was a stain on her mother's good reputation. A daughter who could hear the dead. A daughter who made friends with ghosts and things that lingered in the shadows. Laying down on the bed she curled up as she hugged her hoodie tighter around her. The hood covered her head trying to hide her from the world. She tried her hardest to keep her emotions in check. But she couldn't stop the tears that leaked out of her eyes.

 _Why do you cry little one..._

A voice! She sat up quickly and looked about. There was no one in the room with her or well no one that she could see. Lucinda hugged her legs to her chest as she looked about. "Who's there?"

 _Call me Joe sweetheart._


End file.
